Early Arrival
by ladylillyofazra
Summary: What would happen if Misao actually found Aoshi while searching Japan for him? A different take on the Kanryu incident. An Aoshi and Misao Fanfiction.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Kenshin

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This was it. Tokyo. The moon reflected off of the entangling of buildings and roads. Glancing down, she read the scrawled handwriting once more. After years of searching, she was so close. She had just this one last lead and barely a jingle in her pocket. Lifting her hood, she took one more look. This time, she will find him.

Her Aoshi.

Yet it wouldn't be tonight. The city was in a gentle slumber, Aoshi would be busy, on guard…with what ever he was doing.

After ambling through the twist and turns of the streets in search of an inn, Misao hadn't a clue of where she was. With the increasing number of trees and the lessening amount of houses, she wasn't even sure this was still in Tokyo. But the high wall looming ahead placed her at easy. It looked like one of those dojos that were often at the out skirts. The blue gate was strong, the oriental design spoke of proud in the school.

A flicker of movement. Three figures raced out of the gate, not even noticing her in their haste. Their paced was even, expect for the young boy in the brown samurai pants who lagged behind by a breath. The breeze lifted a faint scent of fire and oil. Such a fire must have occur several days ago. Hyottoko? An image of a man, who was familiar rounded size of a bolder, with fire on his breathe as a lit several candles in amazing accuracy flashed before her eyes.

Was he here?

As they dash pasted her, Misao couldn't let this clue leave her site, trailing after then, while sticking to shadows as Hannaya had taught her. Once she had even surprised Aoshi with her hiding skills, it was one of her favorite games as a child. What an interesting combination of people- a young man with spiky hair and the kanji of evil on his back, running with a samurai whose hair was spun of the shades of fire, and a kid.

"This way." The samurai in a red hamayia darted forward once more, after his pause.

Misao wasn't as hard press as she might have been if she hadn't been roaming for so long. But the lateness of the night wore down on her, and she had spent the day traveling to here. Shaking off the weariness, she focused her sight on the three that made their way to an iron wrought fence. She was Misao Makamachi, being a little tired wouldn't stop her.

After keeping an even pace behind them for a while, Misao didn't notice one of their sudden turns and plunged straight on after where she thought their shadows had gone.

Two shadows loomed behind her. Greedy hands grabbing towards her cloak, Misao turned to face them, disgusted. She had relieved such vermin in the past of their purses. Swing a kick to one of their heads and jumping to the next, she land with a grace and only a smudge on her favorite cloak.

Now where did that samurai go?

An emergency whistle shrieked against the moaning of the poor fools who fell before her. Yells and shouts of fighting were as quickly silenced as they were given. It didn't matter. Misao had a direction, and hope.

Climbing over the iron wrought gates, Misao dashed to the nearest foliage. It would be faulty to have been seen, even if most of the man laid groaning or unconscious. They may report her to their superior, and she didn't know what Aoshi was doing. If he was aiding that samurai who had so swiftly taken out the guards, or the one using the guards as a measure of the strength of the samurai. Aoshi doesn't waste his time against the weak.

Shaking her head, Misao darted along branches of trees, none creaking beneath her weight. There were several large windows, and a tower that would be easy to scale. Taking in her surroundings, she noticed the shadow figure of a lone woman in the highest window of the tower. Before she even manage a level, the chattering boom of gunfire, shook her nerves, almost making her lose focus. Curiosity overrode common practice. Within moments, she was dangling at the edge of a broken window on the middle level, glancing in.

It couldn't be.

Misao crawled forward onto the ledge, her arms shaking so that she almost fell over the edge as she peered down into the room. Aoshi-sama. Her breath escaped from her, her balance wavered once again. This was impossible. Crimson seeped from dual wounds on his legs. If only she had come earlier.

Now he was barely managing to stay crouched up right. Her invincible Aoshi-sama.

"Aoshi's first, he can't move." A strange laugh, high pitch and crazed, resonated in the room only to seemingly morph into a rattle as a great machine was fired directly at her leader. She lurched forward, but did not tumble. Unable to move, or utter a sound. Not Aoshi-sama.

"No." Shikijou continued his mad dash to his leader, kneeling before the coming onslaught.

"Shikijou…" Aoshi's voice was strained. But before the gun fired, the adjoining doors bang opened.

"Your opponent is now me, Hyottoko."

"What?" The man angled the gun towards the rather robust Hyottoko. His brief shock covered from the mad grin that spread across his lips, as he aimed for Hyottoko's head. Misao froze, unable to mutter a word n. Her nerves racing around her, but she was paralysis as her robust friend ran nearer.

The gun roared to life. Bullets crushed Hyottoko's skull as blood sprayed from his head. Her stomach turned in protest, but she held back, her hand over her mouth, watching as the man who once breathed fire for her fell. Something rose within, despite her shacky movements Misao crawled closer.

She couldn't let this continue.

No one had seen her yet, she was a shadow above the machine. The gatling gun swung to Aoshi. Her heart thundered in her ears. At the corner of her eye, she saw Hannaya whispering fervently with the samurai, his stance shifted, ready to leap.

Her breath seemed to slow. The room became crisp and clear, the delicate polish on the rails, the glitter of the crystal chandeliers, the glistening scarlet pooling around the limp forms of the fallen, and the sick shine of the steel. It was the determinations that shown in the samurai's eyes as he focused on his sword, lying useless on the ground.

The man, with light reflecting the insane glimmer of insanity off of his glasses. His finger on the trigger, but he continued to rant on his plans unaware of the silent plan. So caught up in the ideal splendor and his own bought confidence. He was beneath her perch. So close…

They launched off in unison. The samurai for his blade and Hannaya to his leader. Ready to die. What if he didn't make it? Thought fled Misao's mind. Not Hannaya, not Aoshi. They would not die.

Misao leaped.

Time inched to long drawn out heart beats. In that moment, she caught Aoshi's eye. Those piercing ice-blue eyes widened, and she saw herself reflected. Her long raven braid loose, her pink ribbon rippling as a long stream behind her, and her tattered ninja outfit lifting the slightest bit up.

The moment was gone.

Time gained speed. Landing her kick, she knocked the manic into the gun as he pulled the trigger. The gun spun on him, pulverizing his arm as he fell. The mass of bullets and metal swung around as one last shot sounded off, then silence.

Misao was thrown back; hot metal punctured her shoulder. Pain rippled through her. Each slow heart beat, brought the agony closer, intensifying it. Her body crashed against the cold ground, dozen of kunai bit into her flesh, blood seeping from her shallow wounds. Misao heard the echo of her head rapping against the floor. At least Aoshi was safe.

The world went black.

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AN: Revising chapters to be longer, and fix spelling errors. Please review if you see something that needs to be fixed.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Kenshin.

Chapter has been revised.

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"Who?" Yahiko trailed off as Beshimi flew through the doors open, poison darts in his fingers. But halted.

"Misao?" The midget of the man had to blink twice, then looked towards his leader.

Aoshi was thunder struck. He couldn't even blink. At first unable to recognize the girl, with gentle curves. But she was so familiar. Her eyes the same green blue, and the hair.

She could not be the little girl that they had help raise in Kyoto. The seven year old that fell over when she kicked too high. But the braid was the same, longer and wild now wrapping around the slim body that had the slightest of curves showing she was no longer a child. But there was blood. Crimson glistening around her, he didn't know if it was all hers or that monster of a man who laid immobile a small distance away.

"Okashira?" Hannaya had been the one to speak, his eyes intent on the fallen girl.

All Aoshi could do was nod. His eyes searching, assessing the damage around the room, Shikijou laid unmoving before him, his chest packed with bullet holes. Hyottoko was an unpleasant sight, the gruesome damage that the machinery had on his head. Beshimi was by his side, attempting to do something for his fallen comrade. And the man Kanyruu was dead, Aoshi would have rather killed him himself. The Battousai and his companions had already disappeared to fetch the lady doctor.

"She's alive." Hannaya voice lifted some of the sinking shock that surrounded Aoshi.

This. The clear memory of years ago flickered. He had left Misao at the Aoi-Ya to prevent this.

"Do not move her." Ignoring the pain that shot up through his legs, Aoshi rose leaning Shikijou on his shoulder. "Beshimi stay with her until the Battousai arrives with Takani, and see to it that she receives their aid. Hannaya take Hyottoko and come with me." His men deserve to have the proper rites of passage. And Battousai would not let someone like Misao go without treatment, knowing that he could convince Megumi Takani to treat Misao.

Glancing back, Aoshi could barely distinguish the rise and fall of Misao chest. So fragile.

Without hesitation, he proceeded to the secret passage way, Hannaya tolling Hyottoko behind him. Misao would be alright. There was no other option. She was always strong spirit.

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It had taken a night and a day, to lay Hyottoko and Shikijou in proper graves. He never knew it would come to this. They had deserved the proper battle that was denied them, not a death by that insane man. The clearing did have a beauty in the gentle glow of moonlight across grass, with the swaying of the trees.

The three of them stood before the unmark graves, keeping a silent vigilance. A question, not meant to be said. _What now?_

They had fought Battousai and lost. Lost two men, for a moment of glory.

Aoshi faced the matter of Misao. Stunned by her nearly miraculous appearance, if not for her…He did not think on it. But glanced at Hannaya and Beshimi, who were craving names in the stones.

His eyes were open, his mattered calm, as he looked over the graves. An emotion rose stark within. How he wished he could give them that title. The title that they would have earn. _The strongest._ Yet, Battousai was a man of principle. He cared nothing for the title, but Aoshi couldn't simply take it. Aoshi would not lie to himself, nor his men.

There was one matter before. Someone whom they all loved. He would honor his men, and bring the little girl they left behind so many years ago, to her home. How old was she now? The years had been hard to follow, yet he still remember her birthday. And why had she been alone?

Motioning for Hannaya and Beshimi to flow, he turned away from the stones. A last farewell fluttered in the wind.

It was moments, long after they had travel far from the clearing, before he broke the silence.

"Hannaya," Who perhaps had the friendliest relations with the former samurai, "look in on Misao."

"Hai, Okashira." Aoshi nearly felt Hannaya's smile.

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AN: Revising chapters, please review if you see something that needs to be edited/change or if you want to!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Kenshin

AN: Previous chapters have been revised.

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It had taken a night and a day, to lay Hyottoko and Shikijou in proper graves. He never knew it would come to this. They had deserved the proper battle that was denied them, not a death by that insane man. The clearing did have a beauty in the gentle glow of moonlight across grass, with the swaying of the trees.

The three of them stood before the unmark graves, keeping a silent vigilance. A question, not meant to be said. _What now?_

They had fought Battousai and lost. Lost two men, for a moment of glory.

Aoshi faced the matter of Misao. Stunned by her nearly miraculous appearance, if not for her…He did not think on it. But glanced at Hannaya and Beshimi, who were craving names in the stones.

His eyes were open, his mattered calm, as he looked over the graves. An emotion rose stark within. How he wished he could give them that title. The title that they would have earn. _The strongest._ Yet, Battousai was a man of principle. He cared nothing for the title, but Aoshi couldn't simply take it. Aoshi would not lie to himself, nor his men.

There was one matter before. Someone whom they all loved. He would honor his men, and bring the little girl they left behind so many years ago, to her home. How old was she now? The years had been hard to follow, yet he still remember her birthday. And why had she been alone?

Motioning for Hannaya and Beshimi to flow, he turned away from the stones. A last farewell fluttered in the wind.

It was moments, long after they had travel far from the clearing, before he broke the silence.

"Hannaya," Who perhaps had the friendliest relations with the former samurai, "look in on Misao."

"Hai, Okashira." Aoshi nearly felt Hannaya's smile.

Sunlight, warm against her face, rose her from the recess of sleep. Her eyes opened to an unfamiliar ceiling. Not in Kyoto. Glancing at the wall, she noticed a shadow on the screen, only to disappear a moment later. Hannaya? Misao shock her head, she must still be dreaming.

She tried to sit up, only to have her shoulder feel as if it were bursting in flames. Grimacing, she placed a hand to it. Recoiling in surprised by the warm blood that stained her fingers. Turning her head, she saw that her uniform was torn, one of the sleeves replaced by soaked bandages.

What happened? She felt useless just lying there. Where was she?

The door slid open to her left. A lady with dark long hair, and brown eyes, but she carried the tray of tea with practice.

"I thought you would be getting up by now." She placed the tray gently to Misao's side. "You almost slept for the two whole days." Her eyes narrowed at Misao's shoulder. She reached into a box case and grabbed a handful of bandages and moved towards her.

"Who," Misao nudge back a little, only to be halted by the sharp pain in her shoulder.

"Don't move, stupid girl. You're only causing the wound to bleed more and after all that time I spent sewing you back up this morning." Megumi scowled, but pleased; it was right to treat people. Instead of…She closed her eyes, pushing those thoughts back.

"I wouldn't, if you told me what's going on." Lifting her voice a little, she attempted to glare at the doctor.

"You have a bullet wound in your right shoulder. The bandages need to be changed. You're lucky your lung was punctured." She settled her hands in her lap. "Now do I need to call for assistants or are you going to let me work?"

"Yes." She was Oniwanba, she could tolerate the pain. But still a punctured lung, Jiya would have fits when he heard. She almost groaned at the thought, he would not tolerate her running off alone again after Aoshi.

Aoshi…

"There all done…"

Misao jolted to a sitting position, before the doctor could finish her sentence.

"Aoshi! Please is Aoshi alright?" Her hold was desperate on the doctor's hand.

The doctor stilled. Her eyes turned gain a fearful edge to them. But she straightened, herself out. And offer a bitter smile.

"I do not know." Megumi had no wish to distress her patient, despite the girl's unknown ties with that cold man. But such was the plea in the girl's eyes, the same that Megumi felt when it came to news of her family.

"But," Megumi would never hold any love for the man who let her be kept prisoner, yet this girl. "Sir Ken, said that his wounds were not severe."

"Thank you." Misao smiled. She had found him. It had not been a dream, at last she had found him. For just a moment.

"Now then, I haven't even introduced myself, and it is peculiar treating a patient before learning their name." Megumi set the tea before her patient.

"I'm Misao… Makimachi, Misao." She had no room for a more proper introduction, just a name.

"Tanaki, Megumi."

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This chapter was difficult. How would Megumi react to Misao if she meet her under this condition? And how would she be a doctor to Misao? So I made her sympathetic. Don't worry. She'll get back to the teasing fox soon. Hope you enjoyed!


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